Thunder
by Saf Dawnheart
Summary: He just wanted somewhere to wait out the storm. She just wanted to be left alone. Two totally different goals and Legendaries. So why do they feel an odd sense of kinship... and something else? — Palkia/Giratina.


Reposted due to my own stupidity in trying to fix the line breakers of the fic and ending up replacing the whole thing instead. XD Thankfully, a lovely fan by the name of sa was so kind as to email me the fic, so it's back, bitches! :)

This is kind of just to tide everyone over until I get the next Requiem chapter/a new Legendshipping oneshot out. So, enjoy!

_**Disclaimer-**_ I do not own Pokemon, the sneaky Mulan reference I stuck in here for giggles, or the song "Thunder" by Boys Like Girls, for which this fic is named. In fact, it should be pretty obvious that the only thing I own is the PalGira pairing. Lol, kidding. ...seriously, though, am I the only one who likes them? -crickets chirp-

* * *

"Frickin' hell, I can't see _anything…"_

As if to punctuate his words, the lone dragon hovering in midair narrowed his eyes against the torrential downpour. An irritated noise that was caught somewhere between a sigh and a growl tore itself from him, barely audible over the sound of the rain. He shivered despite himself at the way the rain was beginning to soak into his skin, particularly on the pearls adorning his shoulders; normally they were overly sensitive to any sort of moisture, and so this type of rain and icy cold couldn't be good for them.

As if in response to his thoughts, a sensation of numbness beginning to spread along his upper arms became tangible. The Legendary uttered a curse that he had only heard humans say upon stubbing their toes in a furious undertone, the anger of which was slightly deadened by the detectible shudder in his voice. In the back of his mind he could already hear his counterpart lecturing him, in an imagining so vivid that her inevitable chiding toward him made him wince in anticipation: _"You should've known better than to stay in such a cloudy area for so long, Palkia! If it looked like it was going to rain enough to drown a Snorlax, then you should have just avoided it altogether!"_

Like it was his fault that Arceus had decided to send him on a patrol to the swamp close to Pastoria City. Palkia wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to get warm as he snorted. Even he, the Dialga-dubbed moron of the Legendary council, could have averted this little crisis by simply telling the poor sucker to go somewhere that, oh, _didn't_ have skies blanketed with rain-clouds year-round. But no, Arceus had apparently spotted a group of poachers trying to hunt down the local wild Pokemon, and so had called upon Palkia to go check things out. And like the sheep Pokemon he was, Palkia had made a beeline for the area, and had _maybe_ taken a little longer than necessary to assure the route was indeed safe. _I was just trying to make sure I did a good job,_ Palkia thought, the tiniest pout coming to his face despite himself. _The last thing I need is another chance for everybody else to make fun of me for doing a crappy job on something._

It was just an excuse, of course. Palkia had actually spotted a miraculously mud-free clearing when he was searching for a place to take a rest, and had taken the chance to have the tiniest little nap. A tiny little nap that, inevitably, turned into a _siesta_ that missed the cloud-concealed sun traveling across the sky and down below the horizon, and that was rudely interrupted by the sensation of large, numerous raindrops hitting Palkia's head.

So that brought him to this current situation. Palkia growled another vulgar curse to himself and resumed looking around for a slight gap in the unrelenting curtain of rain. Even he had enough common sense to realize that he had to find a place to stay the night before returning to the Hall of Legends to give his report to Arceus tomorrow morning, a report that was, in fact, peaceful and uneventful – hardly worth the trouble of coming out here and getting soaked to the skin.

But where exactly could he go, that _didn't_ involve an awkward explanation to some wide-eyed, speechless wild Pokemon? Palkia had learned from experience that taking refuge in some wild Pokemon's den plus the Pokemon returning to find a Legendary in its humble abode equaled a surefire disaster. He couldn't count the number of times he had had to awkwardly excuse himself to a groveling, simpering wild Pokemon; he would rather avoid that kind of confrontation if he could.

That brought him back to his original question. A boom of thunder suddenly sounded, and Palkia yelped before he could contain himself, jolting in midair and beginning to shudder in a way that had nothing to do with the cold anymore. The flash of lightning that followed soon after didn't help his now-raging heartbeat at all, and Palkia felt a surge of shame at his own emotional outburst. As Dialga would say, _"Be a man!"_

Of course, she would almost always follow that up by humming some song under her breath, a song that was supposedly a continuation of her spoken phrase.

Whatever. Either way, Palkia knew he had to just deal with this.

Another crash of thunder tugged another cry out of the space dragon's throat and pulled him forward to start flying through the rain-coated air. He instinctively tucked his limbs closer to his body in an attempt to warm himself up and tried to think while keeping an eye out for trees at the same time. Needless to say, it didn't work very well and he nearly crashed into a tree more than once.

_Where was he going to go? _As far as he knew, none of the Legendaries lived very close by, except for Azelf, but Palkia would really rather not deal with the blue pixie's antics right now. The deity of space was exhausted and bedraggled and more than a little irritated: not exactly the best combination for endless poking and prodding. What Palkia wanted right now was a place to sleep and somewhere warm.

But it looked like the storm wasn't going to let him have both without a fight, a fact that was reinforced when the downpour grew in intensity. Palkia's shoulders slumped in another irritated sigh.

He lifted his gaze briefly to the sky, which immediately proved to be a mistake, as the rain simply pelted into his eyes. Shaking his head and blinking to get the water off of his lashes, Palkia suddenly realized something.

A Legend who lived close by… who wouldn't poke and prod at him…

And almost unbidden, much to his own dread, an image of the infamous goddess of the underworld, the quite literal bitch from hell, popped into Palkia's mind.

"Oh, no," he groaned aloud, halting in his flight and putting one hand to his head. "Oh, Arceus, no." _Anybody but… but… _her. Compared to the thought of having to spend the night in close quarters with Giratina, staying with Azelf was starting to sound pretty good right now.

At that moment, a particularly loud crack of thunder boomed, closer than before, and Palkia swore his voice hit a pitch that only a Growlithe could hear.

Of course, only _after_ the shock had propelled him forward did Palkia realize that he had bypassed Lake Valor entirely, a fact that made the sense of impending doom grow ever further within him.

Well… at least staying with Giratina for the night – if only to escape his fear – was better than nothing.

* * *

This wasn't going to end well.

Palkia had just lighted down in front of the entranceway of Turnback Cave, shivering from both the icy layer of rain on his body and the ominous sense that the fog surrounding the overlooking cliff offered, when he felt it. An unmistakable rush of freezing air, coming from…

…the cave itself.

Oh, Arceus.

"Great," Palkia grumbled, not removing his hands from their trusty position around his biceps in a never-failing attempt to get warm even as he started for the entrance. Not only was Giratina going to kill him when he got inside, but he would be freezing his sorry ass off while she did it.

Peachy.

The cold didn't ease as the surface beneath him changed from long, unkempt, dew-covered blades of grass to hard ground, albeit a comfortable ground. And, glancing down, Palkia saw why: fog concealed the cavern's floor from view. As if to offset that realization, a gust of howling wind abruptly swept through the area, causing Palkia's shoulders to jerk in yet another violent shiver.

"This was a very bad idea," he muttered.

"Damn straight it was," a voice suddenly sounded, startling him to the point that he jumped about a foot in the air and let out another high-pitched squeal.

"Wow; didn't think you could reach a pitch that high. I'm sure the Pokemon in the Pal Park are covering their ears right now." Even as the mildly irritated remark rang through the air, the owner of the voice was making herself known in Palkia's presence; the basilisk appeared out of the mist in front of a corridor that adjoined one of the surrounding caverns to this one. Palkia caught the fact that no legs extended from her body to disappear into the fog and noted that she had chosen to take her origin form, as Arceus had dubbed it.

Giratina narrowed one eye as she followed his gaze, then widened the wine-red slit again, as though realizing what he was looking at – or rather, what he _wasn't_ looking at. She lowered her form slightly so she could meet his eyes, which, she realized, were filled with fear. Well, that wasn't too surprising, considering the reputation she had built up for herself in the Legendary council. Yet something told her that the wild look in Palkia's crimson eyes wasn't just because of the Pokemon whose home he was in.

"Any particular reason why you're trespassing in my cave?" she queried, trying to sound brusque as ever despite her curiosity.

Palkia reared back a little. "Giratina, I can explain –" he began.

"Something tells me you're not just _visiting,"_ Giratina growled, beginning to circle him. She couldn't hide the tiny hint of bitterness in her voice when she spoke. "No one ever willingly goes to the gate of the Underworld."

At this, the space dragon's pupils rolled up to the ceiling, almost to set off his scoff of agreement. "Well, you've at least got that right," he muttered, folding his arms in a way that was more defensive than because of the cold.

"I'm just that good, I suppose." Giratina huffed. "Anyway, I'm assuming there is indeed a point to this conversation, so I'll get to it, if you don't mind." A smirk worked its way over her reptilian face at the low growl that her blunt remark produced, but that minor quirk of her lips faded almost the instant it appeared, amusement replaced by annoyance. _"Why are you here?"_ she repeated.

Palkia had to blink at the seemingly abrupt nature of Giratina's change of mood, and decided that Raikou's theory about the basilisk having some kind of bipolar disorder wasn't too far from the truth. Under any normal circumstances he would have at least tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, but dammit, he was tired, cold, and, he realized the instant after his stomach voiced it, getting hungry. His claws flexed with the growing urge to score them across Giratina's masked face, an urge he managed to suppress even as he responded, crimson eyes narrowed at her. "In case you haven't noticed, it's kind of pouring outside," he growled. Deep breaths, Palkia. Deep, soothing breaths. "And…" He trailed off as it hit him in the face that he hadn't thought of a suitable lie to cover up his real reason for staying the night here.

Giratina couldn't hold back a tiny derisive scoff, causing Palkia to jerk his head up and glower at her. "The hell are you laughing at?" he demanded.

The ruler of the underworld rolled her eyes at the petulance in his voice and the childish way he was looking at her: it reminded her of a young human who had just been told that two plus two does, in fact, equal four and not twenty-two. "Nothing," she answered rather loftily, floating off in the opposite direction. She stopped in midair when she had put a little distance between herself and the unfitting ruler of space and spoke without turning around. "Let me guess: you don't want the rain impeding your precious twenty-twenty eyesight, and so you decided to torment me in your quest to find a place to wait out the storm."

Palkia almost huffed out a sigh of relief, _almost._ Somehow, he got the feeling that revealing any sort of weakness to Giratina would only back him into a proverbial corner. Instead, he shrugged, tightening his arms about his chest as a violent shiver shook its way up his spine. "Pretty much, yeah."

He thought he heard a grumbling of "joy" coming from Giratina's direction, and he opened his mouth, fully ready to snap back.

However, he was totally floored with surprise when, at the same moment he drew in breath to snarl some form of retort at her, she whirled around in a way that caused the mist around them to swirl visibly. "So, if you're going to be staying here tonight," she growled, "here are a few ground rules. One, if you're going to go relieve yourself, do it outside; if you really need to go that badly, you'll take a chance. Two, I don't care _how_ cold and wet you are, there will be no _snuggling_ or…" She cleared her throat, and Palkia didn't know whether she felt embarrassed or irritated at having to use a euphemism for hugging. But was it just him, or did he detect the slightest hint of bright _red_ glowing lightly beneath that golden mask? "…'sharing of bodily heat' between the two of us." The armored chest lifted and lowered in a deep breath before she continued. "Third, and last, of all, you are _out_ of this place first thing tomorrow morning. I don't care if I have to drag your sleeping body out of here by your tail, you're not staying here longer than you have to."

One crimson eye formed into a slit. _How nice._ "Works for me," he answered carefully, recognizing that this Legendary could fully tear him apart if he annoyed her too much. He doubted she would – there was the paperwork Arceus would make her fill out, not to mention the possible exile from the Legendary council at killing one of their own – but he didn't think she was above inflicting severe bodily harm to him if she so desired. "I wasn't planning on lingering around here anyway." Somewhat guiltily, he muttered, "I was on an assignment from Arceus."

Now that he thought about it, oh, good lord, how could Palkia explain this to the big guy himself without getting at least a reproving look? Arceus overall possessed a very calm nature and so a disappointed smolder to the god's emerald eyes, or maybe even a shake of the head in lieu of rolling his eyes, was a routine chiding. Yet even these small actions caused the recipient of said actions to cringe, knowing that to test even Arceus' patience was going a bit too far.

Needless to say, Palkia figured that Arceus would want that report as to how the Pastoria swamps were doing as soon as possible. And so that was why the deity of space winced at the very thought of Arceus' possible reprimand.

Giratina tilted her head to the side at Palkia, a skeptical look covering what was visible of her face behind the gold-spun mask. "Really," she said. It was not a question so much as an acknowledgment on her part. _Well, I know he wouldn't willingly come to this part of Sinnoh,_ she mused.

Palkia's pupils rolled up to the desolate cavern's ceiling. Somehow, he had been expecting a somewhat longer reply – had actually _wanted_ it? Shaking that thought off, he composed a half-decent response to Giratina's terse remark. "Yeah, really," he answered, keeping it short and to the point, as she had done.

He missed it due to his attention being on his surroundings – a subtle, yet noticeable shift in the mist had drawn his eyes to his location – but those wine-red, amber-surrounded eyes widened slightly before narrowing in accommodation of Giratina's growing smirk. So he did know how to shut up every once in a while. It was kind of nice to know – from the moment Giratina had set eyes on Palkia, millennia ago when Arceus was first shaping the universe and everything in it, she had known that the milky white-and-lavender dragon would herald almost certain trouble, to her, to Arceus, and to the rest of said god's creations. Her assumption had proved correct as time had flown on with the deceptive speed of fluttering wings, as Raikou and Mew and the rest of her idiotic, childish fellow Legendaries came to magnify Palkia's capricious way of thinking and his immature tendencies.

Lately, though, in the last few meetings or so, Palkia had changed, somewhat. Maybe his counterpart was rubbing off on him.

Giratina surfaced from her reverie when Palkia's voice cut into the air. "So, where can I stay?"

The basilisk raised and lowered two of her ragged front wings in her little form of a human shrug. "Palkia, this is the Underworld we're talking about." A chuckle oozed out of her into the freezing air; Palkia thought he caught a hint of fleeting bitterness in her cachinnation, but any tone that hinted toward it was gone so quickly he couldn't be sure. "It's huge. Just pick a cavern and stick with it."

"As long as it's not the one you're staying in, right?" The words poured out with the force of poisoned bullets before Palkia could stop himself. He immediately flinched, opening his mouth in preparation to apologize, but it wasn't needed.

"Exactly," Giratina replied, her composure having returned. "Preferably one that's close to this entrance, though. This place can get pretty hard to navigate if you're just wandering around."

Palkia nodded, still feeling slightly abashed at his own insensitivity – and the cause of that feeling of embarrassment toward himself didn't hold its roots in Giratina's violent temper, surprisingly enough. No, this was because he actually felt… _sorry_ for her?

He tried to kick off the thought, but it had dug its claws deep into his mind and wouldn't leave no matter how hard he mentally coaxed it. And as he hastily rounded the corner – after about ten seconds of standing in shock of said realization about his pity toward Giratina and Giratina awkwardly clearing her throat in a silent request for him to react – Palkia could feel those claws latching around his heart and causing it to beat in sympathy.

Well, she certainly had nothing that any of her fellow Legends envied. A reputation she couldn't shake (even Palkia had heard the human stories that had cropped up around her: tales of a demon which had veered away from Arceus' teachings and the mortal world, of a tyrannical beast which drew creatures into a hell that was, really, just where everybody went where they died, simple as that); a domain of fog and mist and moaning spirits (really depressing, seriously, who would willingly make their home in a place like this?); a temper that had formed due to the aforementioned things (Palkia had thought a while back that someone with a pole that far up her ass really had no reason to be that way, but now he was rethinking that evaluation).

Was it really any wonder, then, that Palkia felt _sympathy_ winding its treacherous fingers around his emotions and refusing to let go?

He stopped in his tracks when the foggy corridor widened out into a spacious room almost exactly like the one before. The important difference was the cause of Palkia's abrupt halt: unlike the previous chamber, which had been empty but for the apparently pity-inducing basilisk that inhabited the whole cavern, this room had a strange-looking stone formation in its center.

Palkia's head tilted gradually to the side as he studied the odd pillar, his eyes traveling its box-like bottom to the weird centerpiece at its long, tapering top. From the next room over he heard Giratina's impatient growl of "Okay, what the hell's taking you so –" – and then those words, which had grown louder as she had approached, stopped instantly with her own halting behind him.

"Oh," she said, almost dismissively.

"What're these?" Palkia queried, gathering up his courage and turning to her. He very nearly had to lift his head to meet her eyes, but was spared the trouble, since Giratina had floated down to meet his eye level.

"Pillars I placed in here for the casual traveler to see." Giratina's mouth twisted into a wry smirk at the irony of her own words. "If they see three before they pass through thirty rooms, then they reach my main chamber."

"You mean the room you normally stay in?" the deity of space pressed, not even knowing why he was elaborating on the subject. _The room that's off limits to me?_ he added dryly, his own sarcasm echoing in his head.

Giratina gave a single downward movement of her head to indicate her response, which was, indeed, yes.

Palkia murmured an "ah" of understanding. Then something dawned on him and he asked, "So wait, if a trainer just happened to wander through here, saw three of these pillar thingies, and then just walk through a random door, they could catch you if they wanted to?"

"And the boy wins a prize." Giratina rolled her eyes.

Palkia's eyes widened into an expression of horror. "Are you stupid?" he demanded, and the vehement anger in his tone made even Giratina back up a little in midair, staring in surprise at him. "Why the hell would you set up a cave that way? What if one of those trainers managed to _catch_ you? What then?"

Giratina's shaken composure fell back into place and she narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the very small part of her that was jumping up and down in agreement at what he was saying. "Do you honestly think I'd let a stupid human catch me? You're insulting me, Palkia. Even I haven't fallen so far."

Palkia glowered in her general direction, chest heaving, his fury dying down now that his common sense was kicking in and screaming at him to just shut up about the topic. He lowered his eyes to the ever-shifting mists, mists that shielded his lower legs and feet from view. "Well I'm terribly sorry for being concerned," he muttered.

_That_ made Giratina blink. At the time that she'd thought to set up the cave in such a way that any old person could find her if they managed to stomach the general aura of this place long enough, Giratina hadn't really considered the negative consequences of her own actions. As much as she hated to admit it, it was her own damnable desire to just escape this life – let the lost spirits fend for themselves and whatnot – that had fueled her decision. It wasn't like anyone would miss her presence, anyway.

Yet as she levitated there, it seemed like she was staring right at one of the few Pokemon in her life that would care if she just up and vanished.

Why were her cheeks starting to heat at the very thought?

_You're just not used to any kind of positive emotion. That's all._ And that should have been that.

"Look," Palkia said, breaking through her thoughts for the second time that night, "it's been a long day. I'm just gonna try to go to sleep."

Giratina plastered a bored expression on her features in an attempt to cover up the conflict she'd been feeling earlier. "Right. You do that."

Palkia glared at her for one more second before turning on his heel and, with a sudden shiver at a new gust of icy wind against his still-wet skin, stalking off to the furthest corner of the cavern.

His dramatic departure, however, came to a screeching and unceremonious stop when the cavern reverberated with a loud, resounding rumble.

The response was immediate: Giratina's head whipped toward the flicker of movement near the edge of the chamber and she had just opened her mouth to inquire as to what the hell exactly was wrong, but a cry of surprise and discomfort rang throughout the air, sounding in a way similar to the way he had yelped at her surprise appearance earlier.

She tentatively moved closer, one eye narrowing further and further until it was almost closed – her impression of a human's eyebrow arching further and further up on said human's forehead – as she spotted Palkia, the dragon of space, the one who had taken out a full party of six Pokemon when the owner of those Pokemon had tried to capture him, the one who had made it out of that blue-haired freak's scheme alive…

Cowering.

In the corner.

Because of a _noise._

And the gears in the goddess of death's mind began to turn.

If Giratina's internal barometer was correct, then the storm was still raging in full tilt outside. So that noise outside, the noise that had induced such a dramatic reaction in Palkia…

"Palkia," she said, and could feel her lips curling upward in a smirk. Oh, the blackmail this would foster… "Are you… afraid of storms?"

"No!" The reply came so quickly that Giratina's smirk only widened. _The moron doth protest too much, methinks. _"I-it just… surprised me, that's all. Yeah. That's all it was."

"Sure," Giratina yawned, and allowed the evil grin to manifest itself fully as her jaw closed.

"Hey, don't look at me like that! I'm being serious here!" Palkia protested fervently, curling into an even tighter ball against the back wall as the cold began to penetrate more deeply into his bones.

"And so am I." Her nonchalant comment made Palkia let out a startled grunt. His eyes flashed as he met her gaze with irritated crimson orbs of his own; despite his obvious… _dislike_ of her (the understatement of the century), Palkia struck a strange chord within Giratina, something she had buried way back, when she had fully accepted her duties.

She mentally shook herself, trying to heed the part of her that was hitting its fists against the glass wall of its cage and screaming for her that _attachment only leads to pain, you should know that better than anyone, you, the ruler of those who had the worst befall them. _Yet a larger part of her just wanted to push that aside, if only for one night.

"You know," she murmured, moving closer, "you're not the only one who has stupid fears."

Palkia looked astonished – really, the comical look on his face nearly drew a chuckle out of her. "Really?" he blurted, completely contradicting his previous denial of the reason behind his actions earlier.

Giratina gave a single nod. "Really, really," she muttered, focusing on a point in the fog next to Palkia's form. A wry smile twisted her mouth. "I've never told anyone else this before, but…" She hesitated, wondering if she should really take the plunge here. At last, though, her chest heaved in her action of taking a deep breath before she continued. "I can't stand Combee or Vespiquen – hate bugs on the whole, actually."

Palkia stared at her for a moment. Then a grin of his own spread very slowly on his own countenance, to where he thoroughly resembled that Cheshire Cat on its respective human-made movie. (Giratina had gone to seen it, alone of course – spooky stuff. And this was coming from _her.) _"Hmm," he said. _"Really."_

"Don't even think about it, Palkia," Giratina sighed. Her legs extended out of her body and she lighted down on the ground before coiling up, snake-like, next to Palkia. "You tell anybody that and you can bet that certain… _appendages_ will be missing the next day."

"Ouch," Palkia winced. "Point taken."

Both Legendaries exchanged tiny, secret smiles and chuckled to themselves at the absurdity of the situation. It was only when his own amusement was dying down that Palkia realized how close the two of them were sitting: he could practically feel the heat radiating from Giratina's frame. Somehow, he was surprised that a Pokemon like Giratina could emanate that kind of body heat, and then immediately chided himself; he'd come to realize so many things about her tonight.

Like that he could catch a very delicate hint of coconut cream, and – what was that, _caramel?_ – some different kind of scent wafting from her. He couldn't place it, but it was… kind of nice. Again, he felt a little taken aback, that the Legendary of the Underworld should possess characteristics of a sentient being; and again, he felt the same sense of self-reprimanding.

She didn't show it, but Giratina found their sudden closeness rather disarming. Being surrounded by transparent spirits all the time certainly didn't prepare her to be constantly inhaling the scent of rain, along with – something she couldn't think of off the top of her head. It was musky, though, kind of nice.

They didn't get enough time to dwell on it, though, because the instant the two of them tore their gazes away from each other, another clap of thunder sounded. Palkia jumped and huddled closer still against the wall, shivering violently in a way that had nothing to do with the cold anymore.

Giratina felt a surge of sympathy for Palkia, and to her own amazement (the tiny part of her, the part she would normally dub her "dignity," was still shouting at her to stop from within its glass confines, but she pushed it aside with exasperation) she placed the tip of one wing against Palkia's shoulder. "It's okay," she whispered, following that wing with another; splitting her wings into the ragged imitations that she normally reserved for her origin form. "It'll be over soon. You'll be fine."

"Right," Palkia muttered sleepily, his head already lolling to the side, to settle on the nearest surface…

…which just happened to be Giratina's golden-armored shoulder.

(Her face couldn't possibly get any hotter at this point, right?)

Giratina hesitated then, staring down at the immature, stupid, mildly _sweet_ deity of space, who was now pressing the side of his face unashamedly against her (scratch that previous thought). She waited a few minutes, waited until she could feel his breath puffing steadily in and out (was it bad that she shivered a little with every exhalation?), before daring to shift away in preparation to move off to her own cavern (because the amount of body heat was actually starting to make her sweat a little).

Key words being, _in preparation._

Because the instant Giratina twitched one of the wings that she had placed on Palkia's shoulder, another bout of thunder shook the area. She froze as she felt his hand make its way up her body and close desperate claws tightly around a piece of shoulder armor.

"Don't leave," he mumbled, the words vibrating into her skin.

Of course, the moment after he said that, he sneezed. And sneezed. And sneezed again.

Giratina had to roll her eyes and sigh, but she was smiling as she did so. _Leave it to Palkia to unintentionally kill the mood._

She watched Palkia, feeling a little strange at her own bold actions (normally she wouldn't be staring in such fascination at _anyone,_ let alone _Palkia)._ He seemed content enough, but she knew better. Every time it thundered, he would twitch in his sleep and cling to the nearest object. It was a simple chain of cause and effect: he would reach out and find nothing, and then wander around until he found her. It was better he found her than some hungry spirit anyway, Giratina told herself firmly.

Those words sounded fake, even to herself. But she ignored that.

Palkia sniffled and clung more tightly to Giratina, almost like she was a stuffed Teddiursa toy, and he, its child.

Giratina smiled to herself. "I'm gonna catch a cold at this rate," she muttered. And yet she stretched her head down and leaned it against Palkia's own before allowing her eyes to slip closed.

(The being in the glass cage receded back into silence.)

* * *

Everyone wondered why both Palkia and Giratina were sneezing profusely the next day.

Dialga called it a cold. Mew just grinned smugly and called it love.

Mew went home with three lumps on his head and a "kink" in his tail.

Palkia didn't remember a thing past the memory of Giratina's own unique aroma. Somehow, she thought she'd have it better that way.

Although when she got home, she found a message scrawled into the pillar in the room where they had spent the night.

_Thanks for opening up to me,_ was all it said. And beneath it, _I gave Arceus his report. He just laughed and gave me some stupid Bambi reference about being "twitterpated." What does that even mean, anyway?_

Giratina had to laugh at that.

* * *

...why did I put so many Disney references in this fic? -facepalm-


End file.
